


Training

by Davechicken



Series: The Emperor and his Knight [17]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:50:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emperor Poe wants to make sure his pet learns his lessons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training

Poe told him today was a no-mask day, which was fine with Kylo, to begin with. Absolutely fine. He only wears it, now, when he’s fighting or training his Knights. Still, being told it wasn’t allowed meant there was a _reason_ , which would become apparent, and which Kylo reserved his judgement over.

As they finish dressing, Poe sits down on the edge of the bed with today’s plug and lube. It isn’t every day they use them, but it is often. Kylo has made his ablutions ready, and kneels on the bed before bending over Poe’s knees. He feels nice and relaxed from their morning session anyway, and the plug normally kept either Poe’s last load inside, or kept him open enough to be used when they next met. Used, and also on edge. The subtle press inside, the pressure on his entrance, was such a delicious temptation. He’d have to will his cock not to fill too much in public, unless Poe also put him in chastity to keep his dick from waving in front of everyone.

Poe’s fingers slide into him, first, twirling around with the lube, making him ready for the eventual workings of the toy. Kylo breathes happily, feeling it breach him with care. His Emperor takes him slowly, opening him by degrees; he doesn’t want to get him too aroused, but it’s impossible not to react a little as the plug stretches him around the flare of the bulb. It’s not as good as Poe’s dick, or even his fingers, but the promise of _later_ is definitely good. 

Of a sudden, his body gives and the widest part settles past his hole: a constant pressure against it, and a not-quite-full sensation inside. It wouldn’t be good if it felt better than being fucked, but it never could do. The best part is knowing he’s giving his husband pleasure at the same time, knowing he’s loved and cared for, even as he’s fucked out of his head.

The base of the plug - a thin strip - hooks between his two cheeks, shoring it off. He tightens around it, getting a feel for it, and moans throatily to show his appreciation. His cock wants more, but unless Poe is ready, he has to wait. 

“Good, pet,” the Emperor tells him, and then slaps his ass cheek. “Get yourself decent. I have work to do.”  


Kylo obliges.

***

It starts in the senior leaders’ briefing, later on. Kylo sits to Poe’s right hand, the table filled with important people reporting on important things. Kylo doesn’t always _have_ to attend, but he chooses to do so. He often has things to contribute (and feels better doing so under Poe than he had before), but more than that, it’s a show of solidarity.

Poe doesn’t much like them either, but evils that are necessary are just that.

Half way between Lieutenant Andres’ rambling request for more funds for scientific research (don’t private companies do enough?) it starts. Poe’s fingers often slide over his holotablet, and Kylo thinks nothing of it.

Well. Until there’s a sudden, strange rumble below him, like the chair suddenly pulses. He doesn’t feel it in his upper thighs or feet, and when he grips the edge of the table and looks around… no one seems to think they’re suffering engine trouble, or are under attack. No one reacts at all, and he flicks his attention to Poe.

Poe, who is smirking. Subtly, but surely. Kylo catches the arched brow and then puts two and two together. It’s… it’s not just a plug, is it? It’s a remote controlled vibrator.

Kylo has the most deliciously cruel Master in the whole galaxy, and he turns his (now red) face back to the dullness of grant requests. Maybe they could agree to fund some in exchange for sexual aid developments, he almost suggests.

No one seems to notice, and the sound is so low and muffled that he’s sure no one can tell it’s working away inside of him. It’s a tormenting sensation, a constant buzz that keeps his mind from wandering away. It’s hard to remember to behave like he’s in the public eye he is, and not to just… it doesn’t hurt to part his legs a _little_ , to squirm so he can use his weight to bear down on the external part of the plug, to use it to roll his hips. The plug growls quietly at his hole, and then he manages to get it to press against his stomach-side wall, and his lips part in a silent, needy breath.

Oh, _Maker_. How long is this meeting? He’s going to cream his pants at this rate. Only the height of the table prevents everyone seeing the boner he’s nursing, stiff and ready in his pants. He wants to throw himself under the table and offer to suck his Emperor off right now, or just climb onto his lap and grind into him until he pulls the plug out and does it properly, but from the look Poe throws him, **waiting** is the order of the day.

“…isn’t that so, Lord Ren?”  


**F u c k.**

Someone’s talking to him, and he hasn’t been paying attention. He turns his head from the Emperor (who he can _feel_ radiating smug accomplishment at the back of his head) and fixes his eyes as steely as he can on the perpetrator of this newest injury.

“You really think you need to ask me?” he purrs, trying for _Menacing, In Control Dark Jedi_ and not _Man Currently Disappointed That His Boyfriend Turned The Toy Back Off And Now His Ass Is Sad_.   


“I… I… apologise, my Lord, I–”  


“It’s alright,” the Emperor says, with a benevolent wave of his hand. “Please: continue.”  


The toy remains decidedly silent for the next half hour. Kylo’s erection flags sadly, even the thought that it might get turned back on not enough to keep him hard forever. Which is probably for the best, as he’s not sure how long he can stay turned on without causing some kind of vascular distress. The last thing he wants is for his dick to malfunction through over- (or under-) use.

Once the people turn out, and it’s just the two of them, he slants his eyes towards his Master.

“You’re going to have to remember to control yourself, pet,” Poe tells him. “If you’re working, you’re working. No matter what I do to your body, you serve my rule absolutely.”  


Kylo resists the urge to snark that he can serve his rule with a hardon, not wanting to be disappointed twice in a day. “I’m sorry, my Lord.”

“Do you even know what he asked you?”  


Abashed, he shakes his head: “No. I… was distracted.”

“Think back. Go through your deeper memories. You’ll find it.”  


Kylo doesn’t think he will, but suddenly there’s a pulsing sensation inside, again, and he chokes out in surprise. It feels good, but not enough, and then it’s gone. “Master!”

“It’s in there. Find it. I want you to learn your lesson.”  


“I have!”  


The toy doesn’t turn back on, and Kylo scratches through his mind. It had been Fresk talking, and he was always obsessed with one of three th– “Non-human rights and amalgamation? He… wanted to talk about… Wookies?” It was normally Wookies. Fresk had this hate-boner for them, and Kylo normally wasn’t sure what to say. Which was doubtless why Fresk had chosen to bring him in to the argument.

The buzzing comes back, and Kylo whines in the back of his throat. It feels so damn good, and he sits down harder on the chair, eyes glazing over in bliss. “Master…”

The toy keeps on moving, then turns to a more pulsing, broken pace. Not a long, non-stop hum, but a disjointed, melodic pattern of pulse and rest. It’s still not enough, and he looks up to see if he should drop, or bend, or… anything…?

“You’re going to go to the main barracks and give a rousing speech to the new recruits. It will last fifteen minutes, minimum. You will answer any questions, and then you will report back to me. If I believe you’re repentant enough, then you will get your reward. If not…”  


Kylo does not want to know what happens if not. The toy stays pulsing erratically, never enough of a rhythm to anticipate, and he really hopes he can think of enough to say to take up fifteen minutes. 

“Yes, Master.”  


“Run along, pet. Or I’ll make sure Fresk is there, prompting questions.”  


Bastard. Kylo goes pale, and runs as fast as he can with a toy vibrating inside him. He hopes to the Force no one realises the Emperor is using them as part of a sex game, even if it gives him a dark thrill to know it. 


End file.
